see, our world is slowly dying
by CasMyAssbutt
Summary: Stydia & Olicity & Bellarke & Klaroline: The Maze Runner plot but with characters from Arrow, Teen Wolf, The Vampire Diaries, Supernatural and The 100.


**a/n - **Honestly, I have no idea where to put this ball of crazy. I haven't finished the book yet but I'm on the escape and I've already seen the movie, though it's pretty much completely different. So, I used some things from the book-verse and some things from the movie-verse but I think it's easy to follow. HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

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**Glader slang:** (in case anyone needs it—also, I just copied and pasted this list from wiki because laziness so credit to whoever)

Klunk - means "poop" or "crap."

Shank - means "friend" or "fellow."

Shuck - an expletive used to bring attention to one's annoyance or frustration.

Slim it - means "calm down" or "shut it."

Slinthead - a derogatory term used mostly by others when one makes a mistake that involves repercussions.

Greenbean/Greenie - the newest arrival to the Glade.

Newbie - a newcomer in the Glade. Can refer to a Greenie, or anyone else relatively new.

Jacked - describing a person who is messed up in the head.

Bloody - commonly used as "bloody hell" by Newt. An expression of strong emotion.

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_Yeah, you never said a word  
>You didn't send me no letter<br>Don't think I could forgive you_

_See, our world is slowly dying  
>I'm not wasting no more time<br>Don't think I could believe you_

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He wakes up to a loud clunk. Then another loud creak. Then a series of clunks and creaks. He is very confused. Where is he? He looks around but all he sees is black. His eyes are definitely open. He can feel the cold wind piercing them, slapping him in the face. Why is he moving so fast? Where is he moving to? What is he moving on?

He wobbles and as his hand whips out to steady him it lands in something wet. He blanches and gasps for air as his stomach growls. Why is he so hungry? He gulps and suddenly light shines down on him. With a loud clinking noise, he finally stops moving.

The slap of the gate as it opens, freeing him, is loud and definite. The light is so bright he has to shade his sore eyes from it. When he moves his arm away from his eyes two people are peering down at him. Who are they? Who is _he_?

"Don't worry," the man says, bending down and offering him his hand. He takes it and lets himself be pulled out of the dark container. "_We_ aren't the ones that want to kill you."

The skinny, soft eyed girl slaps the man's shoulder halfheartedly. "Don't pay attention to anything this shank says," she laughs lightly, "I'm Thea, welcome to the Glades."

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It's a wide, square field with high, thick walls trapping them in it. He can see openings in every wall. That, unfortunately, doesn't give him much comfort. He feels like a mouse caught in a trap. Even though 'the Glades' has much more space than the box he was just transported in, he actually feels more claustrophobic out here.

"Finally, an attractive Greenie." He whips around to see a young black haired girl. "We've been lacking in that category for weeks." The muscled brown haired boy beside her rolls his eyes.

"Hey," he says. "You remember your name yet?" Name? Oh, name. He has to have a name. Everybody has a name.

"I—" he's about to say can't remember when the word pops out of his mouth, surprising himself. "Stiles." He blinks and nods his head, positive that that sounded familiar.

Light. Blue. Red hair? A man—no, a woman. No— _Are you ready, Stiles?_

He chokes, rubbing his head. It was a man's voice. Was it a memory?

A screen. Water. More red hair. More blue. So much blue. _Don't do this, Stiles. Please, Sti—_

That voice was a girl's. A girl with long, red hair. He doesn't know, but he thinks so. Stiles waits for more voices or images but none come. He shakes his head and lets out a shaky breath.

"It's a lot." He jumps and looks to the boy. The boy smiles. A friendly smile. "You'll be okay."

"Come on, Greenie!" Stiles jumps again and then scurries after the man that had pulled him out of the box. When he catches up, the man shakes his head. "I know Scott's hunky and all but priorities, man." Stiles wants to laugh but can't seem to.

They walk into a shack. It's quite obviously a DIY project and not very welcoming either. He nervously plays with his hands as they approach two men sitting on rickety chairs. People are also scattered along the floor, preening in hopes to hear what's being said.

"What's your name again?" The man asks.

"Oh—uh—Stiles." He feels embarrassed of it for some reason.

With a nod, the man turns to the men sitting on the chairs. He suddenly smirks and sings, "O-li-ver. Oliver! Oliver! Never before has a boy wanted more! Oliver! Oliver! Won't ask for more when he knows what's in store." He holds the 'o' in the last word impressively long.

One of the men, the muscled pale one, sighs. "Gabriel, how is it that most of us have trouble remembering our own name and yet you know every lyric of that song?"

Gabriel smirks, shrugs. "Ollie, don't you know that I was put on this earth to annoy you?"

He rolls his eyes. "Be gone, shank."

"Sure, I'll go find your girlfriend. Fe—el-me-up-city." He swaggers out of the shack, with one last shout, "The Greenie's called Stiles."

"Stiles," the man addresses him after shaking his head at Gabriel one last time.

"So, you're—the leader?" The man laughs and shakes his head. The man beside him finds his statement even funnier.

"Slim it, Diggle." The man chides the other. He doesn't look like he really means it though. "My name is Oliver. As you might have guessed." He chuckles briefly. "I—We don't have a leader. I'm just—slightly more in charge than everyone else. Except John," He gestures to the other man who had laughed. "He's my second in command."

"John? Didn't you call him Diggle a second ago?" Apparently, the name Diggle was given to him because his name is John and there is up to six Johns in the Glade so each picked a new name. Stiles nods. "Right. Where am I?"

Oliver sighs. "We call it the Glade. We also call ourselves Gladers. Because we live here." He looks to John and then back at Stiles before saying as calmly as he can, "Because we're stuck here."

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"Elena! Clarke!" The two girls turn to see Dean and Klaus carrying in Bellamy. They rush over as the two men lay him on a bed.

"Oh my god, what happened?" Clarke gasps out as she feels his boiling forehead. Dean and Klaus look at each other, then to Elena. She bites her lip and nods. They leave quietly. Clarke gapes after them, more in shock than anything. She shakes her head and whispers, "No."

"I'm sorry, Clarke." Elena says softly. "He's been stung." Clarke lifts up his t-shirt and closes her eyes when she sees the hardened veins.

"No." Clarke repeats. Elena sighs softly and runs out of the Med-Jack's shack.

"Klaus! Dean!" They hadn't made it far away. Both obviously beyond angry.

"We tried." Dean says. She knows both of them did. They wouldn't have let this happen if they could have prevented it. She knows they'd both swap places with their friend in a heartbeat. "The Griever was too fast."

"We killed it though." Klaus says roughly. He doesn't seem very happy about the victory. She understands completely.

"You killed a Griever?" She whispers in awe, but she's really just waiting to see which one of them will explode first. "Wow."

Dean snorts. "Well it's a bloody waste now, isn't it? We couldn't even save that piece of klunk inside from a tiny needle!" He laughs without humour.

"Don't beat yourself up, Dean." Elena shakes her head. "Just because we haven't found a cure yet—"

Klaus laughs bitterly. "To find something you have to actually look for it first, Elena." She looks down, biting her lip.

"I was just trying—"

"Yeah, don't." Klaus storms away. Elena and Dean watch him go.

Elena stares at Dean and he watches her pick at her nails. She suddenly gasps. "We _are_ trying! We just don't have the right supplies. It isn't that we don't care because we _do_ care, _I_ care and—" Dean places his arm around Elena's shoulder and pulls her to him. Her lip wobbles but she sighs instead of crying. "I'm sorry that Bellamy's going to die."

"I know." Dean says evenly.

"It wasn't your fault." He just sighs and lets her go, walking away as a loud scream sounds from the Med-Jack's shack. Elena's heart breaks. The Changing has begun.

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"He—what?"

Stiles had been wandering around looking for a kitchen when the black haired girl that called him attractive poked him with a stick and told him to follow her. She was quite odd. But definitely not the oddest thing in this place—_the Glade_.

"The Changing. One of the Runners got stung by a Griever and now he's going through the Changing." She pops a spoonful of mash potatoes into her mouth. For people trapped in a field they had great cooking skills.

"I understood literally none of that."

Octavia rolls her eyes. "The Runners are those of us who run through the maze and come back and map it all. My brother is one."

"Maze, right." Oliver had told him about the maze surrounding the Glade. The maze that everyone, except these Runners, where banned from entering. It wasn't Oliver that decided that he wanted them to stay out, it was the things inside that wanted them to come in that made that decision for the Gladers. "Wait, your _brother_? How can you remember him?"

"Oh, I don't. We came up in the Box at the same time so we just—always felt close and we just kind of decided we were siblings. I don't know. It feels right. I love him like a brother—or, how I imagine one would."

Stiles nods his head. He wishes he had someone to love—in any way.

"Yeah, anyway, so you know about the Grievers that lurk in the maze?" Stiles nods. "When they sting you, you remember."

Stiles straightens. "Remember? Remember how we got here? Who we are?"

"Yeah, but—Stiles, they aren't _good_ memories." Stiles furrows his eyebrows. "We call it the Changing because when someone goes through it—it changes them. They're angry and in pain and—" Octavia sighs. "We don't have a cure. For the side effects. Everyone who gets stung, we have to—we don't have a _choice_—"

"What do you do?" He whispers.

"Well, I guess you'll find out soon." She smiles sadly and watches a woman walk into the shack. "Caroline's here. One of her jobs is to tell everyone who's gotten—who's going to—well, you know." Stiles nods. He watches as Caroline, a beautiful blonde girl, walks purposely—toward _their_ bench?

"Octavia," she says softly. Octavia furrows her eyebrows. Her eyes then widen suddenly.

"No." She says, shaking her head. "No." She stands up, wobbling away from the chair.

"Octavia—" She's already running out of the kitchen-place-thing—did they have a name for this shack as well? Stiles gasps, catching on.

"It was her brother." He says and Caroline nods at him, looking like she's in physical pain just thinking about it.

"Will he—what do they—_you_—"

"The maze." Caroline sighs, taking Octavia's empty seat. "He belongs to the maze, now."

"You're going to put him out _there_—with the _Grievers_?" Stiles gapes. "Okay, I don't really know that the hell they are but I have a pretty good idea and it—well, it is _not_ a nice one."

"Stiles—it is Stiles isn't it?—once someone gets stung they're never the same."

"Yeah, they change. I gathered."

"Afterwards—they're _different_." Stiles blinks and Caroline cringes. "Look, I know that this sounds the same but it's not. Uh—it's like they're not themselves. Well, they _are_ themselves but they aren't." Caroline laughs softly at how ridiculous she sounds. "They have their memories so they aren't the same person as they were without them. They're the person they were before. Do you understand?" Stiles nods. "They're fine—at first. But then they change even more. They get so angry and they try to hurt people."

Stiles sits silently, digesting all the information. "How come you talk—How come you don't use the words the others do?"

"Well," Caroline smiles, "I would with certain people. I guess it's kind of wrong to use it with you. I mean, no offence but it's like something you only do with people you _know_. People that are like—_family_." She frowns sadly. "I'm going to the Med-Jack's shack to check on Octavia." As she rises from her seat, Stiles jumps up too.

"What's a Med-Jack? A doctor?"

"The closest thing we have to one."

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Elena holds Octavia in her arms and tries not to cry with her. Clarke cries silently as she holds Bellamy's hand. He hisses through the gag on his mouth, his back aches and his skin pales to an even more sickening colour.

Caroline trots in, slowing down to a walk when she sees him. Stiles jumps when Bellamy lets out another scream. He stares at the boy rolling and thrusting. He gulps down the vomit threatening to come up. The veins have hardened and his stomach looks like someone vacuumed out everything that was in there.

"That's horrible," Stiles whispers, looking away. Caroline places a hand on his upper arm and tells him that it would be best for him to leave. He doesn't argue.

When he steps out of the shack his eyes fall to a group of boys sitting around a fire, talking. He notices the brown protective chest gear they wear. He hesitates before walking over to them.

"You're the—ah—the Runners, right?"

"Yeah, and you're the Greenie." He shrugs, digging his feet into the dirt.

One of them rolls their eyes. "Well, you want a beer or not?" Stiles doesn't know if he's ever had one before. He doesn't know if he's old enough. He doesn't even know what age he is.

"Sure." He takes a seat on the circular log and accepts the jar with golden liquid. "I'm sorry—about your friend. I'm sorry." Some of them nod, one blows out through his mouth, another rubs a hand along his face. Stiles coughs when the alcohol slides down his throat. He passes it to the boy beside him and shakes his head. Wow, that was strong. He glances at the fire. He sees the girl with the red hair in the flames. He wishes he could remember her.

"Damon and Finn don't know yet." The Runner sighs and tries to smile. "Bags not telling them."

"Bloody hell—this is so jacked up!" Another Runner drops his face into his hands.

"I know." The one from before says. "Any shank and I'd be upset but—_Bellamy_." He shakes his head. "He held us all together. I mean, without him—"

A Runner slams his hand against the log making Stiles jump. "There won't _be_ a without him!" He exclaims angrily.

"Klaus, he didn't mean—"

"Yes, he did!" Klaus hisses. "HE. ISN'T. DEAD. YET." Klaus storms off.

"He's—" The boy beside Stiles tries to explain but Stiles already understands.

"It's fine." He smiles softly at him. "I get it." He pauses. "It's a—pile of klunk."

The boy sniggers and taps Stiles' back. "I'm Jackson, by the way."

"Stiles."

Jackson nods and points to the Runner that had offered Stiles the alcohol. "That's Dean," he points to the next boy, "that's Roy, Silas, Sam and Derek."

"Nice to meet you, Greenbean." Derek smirks at him. Stiles blushes. He doesn't know why.

"HEY!" Stiles jumps as Silas yells at him. Silas winks and gulps down some beer. Stiles smiles. Roy shakes his head and Sam twirls his finger in a circle around his ear. Stiles laughs quietly. The smile stays on his face.

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"Klaus!" He huffs and doesn't respond. "KLAUS!"

"Over here." He calls tiredly. Caroline sighs when she finds him. He's slumped over, sitting on the Forrest floor. She sits down beside him, pulling her legs to her stomach. "What do you want?"

She rolls her eyes. "I want you to stop running off to Deadhead when you're angry." She eyes the graves and shivers.

"Nobody asked you to come after me."

She rests her head on his shoulder. "You'd come after me."

"That's different." She knows that. Caroline glances at Klaus' tired eyes and slips her hand into his. He clutches it tightly.

"Caro—" A loud beeping echoes through The Glade. Caroline and Klaus straighten up and share a look before jumping to stand up. He squeezes her hand tight and they run.

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"What is it? What's happening?"

The Runners all stand up, looking around, before running away.

Derek grips Stiles' arms and Stiles gasps. Derek drags him away and Stiles protests, confused. "What are you—doing?"

"Shh, Greenie. I'm saving your ass."

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"Oliver!"

Oliver runs toward the blonde sprinting toward him. "Felicity, what's going on?"

"It's the Box." She gasps for breath. "It's coming back up!"

"On the same day?" Oliver rubs his forehead. "Once a month. Same day. Same time." He whispers, shaking his head. "It's been that way for two _years_—why would that change now?"

Felicity shakes her head, lost for words. Oliver sighs and begins to jog toward the Box. "Come on."

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Klaus elbows his way through the crowd gathered around the Box, Caroline secured under his right arm, his left flailing at people. They part for him anyway once they realise who he is, but continue nervously gossiping.

"Dean." The man just shakes his head, shrugs. Klaus furrows his eyebrows and Caroline peers into the Box. The girl lying at Oliver and Diggle's feet is worryingly pale and completely still. Her pink and white dress clings to her. Her hand clutches her little belt. Oliver gently lifts her hand, noticing the white piece of paper in it.

"She's the last one. Ever." He reads aloud. The Gladers fall silent.

"Much good sending us a dead one, then. What are we supposed to do? Eat her when the supples run out?"

"Seriously, Murphy?" Caroline hisses at the young black haired boy. He shrugs. Murphy is another John, so he's known as another name.

"I don't think she's dead." Diggle says as he checks her pulse. He nods to Oliver, who sighs.

"Alright," he says calmly, "Dean, Sam, you bring her to the Med-Jack's shack. Caroline, Felicity, you tell Bonnie that her and Jasper need to make sure everyone eats well tonight and then you two met me in the Map shack. Jackson, Klaus, take Malia and Isaac and sweep the maze for Damon and Finn. Don't go too far. If they don't make it back before the doors close _you_ better. Everyone else—" He raises his voice to address the crowd. "Go do your jobs until the doors close and then have a good meal! I want everyone well fed and tucked in tight tonight. Alright, shanks?"

Everyone cheers in answer and run off to fulfil their tasks. Oliver catches Roy's arm.

"Find Stiles." Oliver whispers to him.

"Why?" The boy frowns.

"She said his name."

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"What are you doing? _Jesus_—" Stiles complains as Derek tosses him onto the floor. He brought him to a shack filled with maps.

"Listen to me, Greenbean. You're the Newbie, okay? Everyone is going to look at you when they start to panic, got it?" Stiles nods slowly. He doesn't like that Derek makes everything a question. If he knew what his I.Q. was he's sure it would be very high.

"But—what's going on?"

"Nothing good."

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"What was the—" Elena stares at the girl as Dean and Sam lay her on the bed. "—alarm about?" She finishes lamely. "Okay, um, what the bloody—"

"Yeah, we don't know." Dean sighs and sits down on the edge of an empty bed.

"She had a note with her." Sam says. Elena raises her eyebrows. Clarke and Octavia watch silently. "It said 'She's the last one. Ever.'".

"I guess I don't have to worry about Bellamy dying anymore." Octavia clicks her tongue. "We'll all be dead soon."

Elena sighs softly. "You don't know that's what it means—"

"Yes, I do, Elena! It's pretty bloody obvious that whatever reason we're here for, the Creators—whoever the hell those Klunkheads are—have given up on that! On us!" She extends her arms out. "That means _no_ more supplies. _No_ more Greenies. _No_. _More_. _Surviving_."

Elena runs out of the shack, her lip wobbling. Sam closes his eyes and sighs. Clarke caresses Bellamy's forehead sadly. Dean rubs his hands along his face.

The girl wakes up.

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Oliver walks purposefully into the Map shack, Diggle close behind. He stops when he reaches the table everyone is standing around. He stands silently, staring at Stiles. The boy gulps and Derek awkwardly rubs his arm in an attempt to show support. Caroline and Felicity share a look before carefully watching Oliver.

"Who are you?" Oliver says slowly. Stiles looks down to the floor and Oliver repeats the question firmly.

"Stiles." He says. He doesn't have any other answer.

"And who is Stiles?"

"I don't know! That's all I remember!"

"Is it?"

Stiles pauses. "Yes."

"Are you sure?" The girl with the red hair—

"Yes."

Oliver studies him. "Alright." He says finally. "Today," he addresses the rest of the room. "The Box was sent to us _twice_. The first with the usual suppliers and a Greenie." He pauses, looking around the group. "The second with a girl. A girl so cold and pale, we thought she was dead." Derek furrows his eyebrows. "She's with the Med-Jacks now. In her hand, there was a note. It read 'She's the last one.'" Oliver sighs. "Ever."

Derek huffs. "That's bloody brilliant."

"Slim it. We're not sure what it means yet."

"Well let me translate it for you," Derek gestures to Oliver with his hand, "_We_ aren't getting anymore supplies, _therefore_ are all going to starve to death."

"Derek." Felicity clenches her fists in front of her and closes her eyes. "Can you not?"

"Well, somebody needs to be realistic."

"What does she look like?" Stiles breaks up the almost-argument. When everyone looks at him he nods. "The girl."

"She was young." Caroline says. "Pale skin. Red full lips. Ginger-Red hair."

Stiles bites his lip.

"You remember her." Oliver says calmly. It kind of freaks Stiles out that he can do that. Be so calm.

"I—think I've seen her before. I think she—I don't know. I just—I don't know."

Oliver nods. "Bring him to the Med-Jacks shack. You'll sit with her until you remember something—all night if you have to." Stiles nods. The door swing open.

"I couldn't find Sti—_oh_." Roy blushes.

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"Clarke." Caroline says when her and Stiles reach the Med-Jacks shack. Clarke sighs in relief when she sees her.

"She's awake. I was just about to go get someone." Caroline nods and rushes into the shack.

Stiles' mouth opens involuntarily when he sees her. The girl with the red hair. No new memories come to him when he sees her but—she's _beautiful_.

"What's your name?" Caroline says gently as she sits down on the end of the bed, facing the girl.

"Lydia." She says, eyeing the blonde both curiously and suspiciously.

"I'm Caroline." Caroline holds her hand and smiles reassuringly. "Do you remember anything?" Lydia purses her lips. "This is important, Lydia. You have to really think."

She scoffs. "It's not like I don't _want_ to remember! Memory loss sucks."

Stiles likes her.

Caroline sighs and Dean taps her shoulder with two vials of blue liquid. Caroline furrows her eyebrows at them. "They were in her pocket." He runs his finger along the engraving. "WICKED." He reads.

"WICKED is good." Lydia and Stiles say simultaneously. As everyone stares at them, they stare at each other.

"What does that mean?" Elena whispers.

Stiles blinks and looks at her. He shrugs. "Maybe it's a cure?"

"For what?" Sam asks. Five sets of eyes fall on Bellamy. "Oh, you can't be serious." Sam shakes his head. Octavia snatches a vial and rushes to Bellamy.

"Let's think for a second!" Elena says. "This could kill him!"

Clarke scoffs. "Look at him." She whispers gravely. Elena looks down.

Octavia injects the blur liquid into her brother and stares at him, dropping the empty vial to the floor. Everyone in the room hopes it works, even the one that doesn't even know what's wrong with him.

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"I'm glad your friend is better."

Stiles laughs quietly. "He's not my friend."

"You didn't get along?" Lydia raises her eyebrows.

"No, I—I got here a few hours before you did."

"Oh." Lydia nods her head. "I guess we should stick together, then?"

Stiles smiles. "Yeah, I guess we should."

_I'd like that_.

"Me too." Stiles smiles wider.

Lydia freezes. "I didn't say that out loud."

Stiles stares at her and she stares back.

_Well, this isn't the weirdest thing that's happened to us._

Lydia smiles, nods.

_And it probably won't be the last._

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**a/n -** the end?


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